


The Forming of a Dangerous Rapport

by babybat



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Multi, Penance - Freeform, Punishment, m/f/m
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:44:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybat/pseuds/babybat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two and a half years after Sherlock and Moriarty's funerals, Jim comes back to London with a new pet, Sebastian. Molly is punished for her involvement in Sherlock's faked death and reminded of who she belongs to with a little help from our favorite sniper. Expect lots of graphic porn and violence in the last chapter. Written to fulfill my penance/punishment square for my kink bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daddy's Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, these characters are not mine. This chapter is just a short introduction, no naughty business to be found, just background. If you're looking for the smut, skip to chapter four.

Molly had known the moment was coming. She had betrayed the Napoleon of crime, fully aware that his death had been a staged. She had played her part in its enactment, after all. He had trusted her enough to ask for her help. He used her position at St. Bart's to pull off his stunt. She had betrayed his orders by offering Sherlock the same help. She knew better than to expect she’d get away unscathed. It was only a matter of time. 

What did take Molly by surprise, was that when she came home from work late one night, half a year after Sherlock had returned to 221B Baker Street, it wasn’t Jim who was waiting for her on the couch in her flat.

Molly knew she wasn't being robbed. This strange man was no common mugger. He was here on behalf of Jim. Molly knew this, because she had found the cutesy little note covered in tiny hearts that had somehow found its way into her sack lunch; the one that had proudly declared that 'Daddy' was back.

Instead of sounding like her usual meek self, Molly found that her voice came out less skittish and more confused, maybe even a tad bit offended that Jim had brought someone else into it instead of showing up personally, when she asked, "Who are _you_?"


	2. The Makings of a Relationship

Molly knew the game she was playing was a dangerous one as soon as she had become aware of her position as a pawn. 

She had no disillusions that both Jim and Sherlock were using her; manipulating her to serve their own purposes. She let them use her, because, deep down, Molly really thought that they both had feelings for her...even if those feelings didn't go beyond a sort of amused fondness. It was something. They needed her, and she liked being needed.

Surely, they could have found other ways to orchestrate their plans without Molly if she hadn't turned out to be such a good sport. But she was, and so they didn't.

Molly was likely just grasping at straws, and she knew that; trying to make herself feel more important than she really was, more appreciated than she'd probably ever be. 

She couldn't help it. She was desperate.

That's how Sherlock made Molly feel. _Desperate._ She hated it, but couldn't shake it nonetheless. She couldn't stop herself from fawning over him.

Until Jim.

Not Jim from IT. That had been a lie. A charade put on to deceive her and get closer to Sherlock. He hadn't left a great impression on her life, just another short-lived relationship.

But the real Jim – _Moriarty_ – had changed her. 

She should have never even met him. She knew what he was. Sherlock told her all about Moriarty, about the horrors he committed on a day-to-day basis.

Yet, with all pretense of Jim from IT dropped, she had called him after finding out about the bombing incident. Just to check that he was okay.  
That's how it all began; with a voicemail inquiring if a criminal master mind was 'alright'. 

All the depth that Jim from IT had lacked, all the things that had made her fall for Sherlock in the first place, she had seen in Jim Moriarty during their first encounter.

The key difference between Jim and Sherlock was that Jim found her interesting. Yes, her connections that came from her job at St. Bart's were assets to him, but he was interested in her mind as well. He was fascinated by the way she kept voluntarily coming back to him despite her strong affiliation with his foe. 

It was Jim Moriarty who made her feel as though she were... _interesting_. Sherlock pushed her to the side until she was of some use to him, most everyone did. She was an easily ignored distraction.

But Jim took an interest.

And although their relationship, if it could be called that, wasn't exactly Orthodox or ideal, it had already given Molly so many things. He had helped her increase her own self-worth. Molly had grown more of a backbone with his help. She could tell Sherlock 'no' now. A feat she had never before dreamed of doing, and it was all because Jim had shown her a teeny bit of affection from time to time. Not to mention the sex had teetered on the borderline between amazing and intoxicating. And that was enough to boost any lady's confidence. 

So there she was, pacing the living room of Jim's newest flat and waiting anxiously for whatever sort of reunion Jim had planned for her. She would explain to him why she had helped Sherlock. He'd understand. He'd forgive her, and they'd pick things up where they had left off. Or...

Maybe he wouldn't forgive her. Maybe, instead, he'd splatter her blood all over the walls. 

No.

That would be far too messy for Jim. If he wanted to finish her, it'd be cleaner but still every bit as showy. 

She swallowed hard at the thought.


	3. Let The Fun Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bring out the pitch forks. I lied. This chapter does not contain smut. The final one will, but I felt like sense I have been taking so long to update, you all deserved something. Here's another chapter. The next one will be dripping in so much smut that it will make you blush, I swear it! Except the last chapter to be posted soon!

"Molly, Molly, Molly," She heard his singsong voice call before the sound of footsteps registered. 

In reaction, goose bumps formed across the expanse of her body. She turned around just as he came into the room. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. 

"Jim!" The young pathologist greeted, her whole face lighting up. 

Jim Moriarty smiled at her with such a blank, unreadable look in his eyes that it caused Molly’s pulse to quicken. 

"Sweet Molly." 

He wasn't smiling now, his hands deep in the pockets of his expensive slacks. Molly wondered for a brief moment whether or not there was a knife concealed in one of those pockets. 

"You've been a naughty girl." Jim said, matter-of-factually. 

"No, I–I–," Molly faltered, biting her lip to cut off a frustrated sigh. She hated tripping over words, but she tried to press on, "Le–let me–let me explai–" 

"Ah, ah, ah," Jim held his hands up, shaking his head, "Daddy's talking." 

Molly nodded slowly in a show of obedience. She was ready to accept whatever punishment Jim was ready to dole out; anything to get them back on track. She was sick of feeling hollow. She needed him. 

"That's a good girl," He mumbled, stepping closer, "Now, I have to admit, at first, I was _rather_ upset over the stunt you pulled." 

She knew what was coming, had expected it, but still, hearing him scowled her in that taunting lilt of his made her shudder. 

Jim reached a hand out to stroke a strand of her hair. His fingers slid down the lock, making a disapproving face at the frayed ends before letting go and walking in the opposite direction. 

Molly made a mental note to get her hair trimmed as soon as she had a day off. 

"I know you helped him do it. No point in denying it or asking the ever tedious 'how'." 

Molly couldn't think up anything useful or witty to say in her defense, despite the countless times she'd rehearsed this conversation. She curled her fingers around the hems of her jacket's sleeves and did her best not to fidget. Jim hated fidgeting. 

Once he was halfway across the room he turned back to face her, "What?" He asked with a pout, "No hug?" 

Molly hesitated, tentatively moving forward until she was tucked inside his arms, clinging to him in a way that she knew he found suffocating. But she needed so desperately to be close to him after everything, all the silence. 

His arms wrapped around her, and before Molly could register the danger she was in, the needle sank into her neck and she lost consciousness.


End file.
